


If I had been Human...

by rebel_raven



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gift Fic, I'm not even kidding, M/M, Poetry, SO FLUFFY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 09:59:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_raven/pseuds/rebel_raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If I had still been human, I might, just might, have believed in the lies. A bitter tang left on my tongue, dry as sand paper and poisonous as a curse, worming its way into a spot just behind my heart. A phrase I'd heard too many times to count any longer. Six simple little words, just six, that made the difference...</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I had been Human...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jjtaylor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjtaylor/gifts).



> Hey, so I'm sorry for a bad poem but I was reading jjtaylor's work and I was hit with this little thing... So, read her series Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency and The Detective's Secret and the Mystery of the Dancing Flowers. Seriously, read her work, cause you might want to in order to understand what this thing is about... Soo... Enjoy!!  
> No, wait, lies.  
> I own only the poem. Frank Iero and Gerard Way belong to themselves and the fic that this poem is inspired after and the idea behind said fic belongs to jjtaylor's wonderful mind.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> -RR

If I had still been human, I might, just might, have believed in the lies. A bitter tang left on my tongue, dry as sand paper and poisonous as a curse, worming its way into a spot just behind my heart. A phrase I'd heard too many times to count any longer. Six simple little words, just six, that made the difference,

"You'll be all right, I promise." the man had smiled up at me then, tannedpale skin turning porcelain, blood staining his lips, turning them red against the light blue tinge. His chest rattled, words unspoken and unheard, but that damn smile still on his face.

I try to take a breath, gasping back tears as they slid, unbidden down my own tanned face. Secretly, and maybe openly, I wish that it had been me. His chest rattled again as he struggled to form words, something to say to comment, something to alter a thought.

His heart beat slowed, not quite to a halt but the look in his eyes told me that he wasn't ready to go, but he was hoping for it just the same. I don't know what was going on around me, what people were sayingscreamingshoutingwhispering over, only that the man I'd known for three years, heard about most of a human life span was dying... Life ebbing, no rushinggushingspilling  
Out of him, like the red velvet from his lips.

And still, he clung for a scrap of life, fighting against the dark for a sense of life.  
Clawingbitingscreamingkicking for the last scrap as though he were  
Raging a war against his own conscious. Well, not much of a surprise there, that was often his case. 

Still, he smiled at me, eyes surprisingly focused for a man about to die. He coughed and hacked, more of the life force staining his lips but still he breathed, his eyes fighting for fire. A fire inside that just didn't fucking die.  
He took a breath and paused, then coughed again and winced as I pressed harderharsherstrongerforcinglife against his chest, a last ditched effort for a cause that was dying with him.  
Flowingstreamingpushing with his end.

"Good-bye..." Two words. 

I wake from my dream and rub my eyes, grinding away at the poundingachingthrobbing mess in the back of my head.  
It was a dream, conjured from my mind that didn't fucking quit.  
I miss him and it fucking hurts; more than the rattle in my own lungs, which have been numbed with icecoldfreezing but that could also be the loneliness.

He was gone, knife stabbed him, ropes tied him and someone stole his life. My soul is ripped and torn, barely sewing together  
Threadtwineribbonrope barely holding it together. I'm in a glasshouse, one with plants that he touched and loved and cared for, attempting to fill a hole so gapingyawningchasmically wide that I'm not sure if I can breathe.  
I'm not so sure I want to... My heart is poundingracingrushing in my ears but that could also be from the pain. 

I release a breath I haven't realized I've been holding, gasping and coughing. There's no rattling. Someone is calling, yelling my name but it's inside the house; I can stay here a few seconds longer. 

"Thank you Frankie..." A whisper in my ear, one that even my hearing had trouble with. I pant and stare at the plants in front of me, shake my head and turn my head to the moon, shinydistorted through clear glass. I open the door and see the house he lived in for so long, the place we lived in. 

For the first time in what seems daysmonthsyearseternity, I smile and whisper to bitingcoolingcaressing wind,

"I miss you, Gee... I love you..."


End file.
